It feels like you’re walking through someone’s sneeze today. It’s spitting out. It is, by far, my favorite weather ever. Though the ultimate is when it gets black out, mid-day. My cherry on top? Hiding away in the aisles of a book shop.
The other day Phil asked me if I believed in heaven. I told him I liked to believe that whatever it is we do believe happens, actually does happen. So if you believe in reincarnation, you will, in fact, return as a cow, or pelican, sea monkey, or tanning salon owner. And if you believe that it’s just the same as it was before you were born, that it’s something you can’t remember, something that doesn’t really exist, then that’s what it will be for you. It’s kind of like your ultimate dream being realized. So, I’m going to continue to believe that when I die, I will live in a world where book shops are abundant and always open, where they serve brioche, and where out the back door, you’ll find the Côte d’Azur, and the grandmother you’ve missed. Only now she won’t need to tell you to watch your figure because, just as it was written in Defending Your Life, you never feel too full, every tastebud is perky and engaged, and each bite only makes you all the more radiant, flexible, and toned.
Until then, I’ll be creating my own version of it here in Austin, where the weather has charmed my pants off, and I’m luxuriating in the loveliness that is the Barnes & Noble Specialty Cookbooks section.
3 YEARS AGO: Where the Jews Are…Not